


Delayed Reaction

by Aussie_Lass



Category: The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Arriving in Valinor, F/M, Fingon as Gil-Galad's Daddy, I See Dead People Reborn, Loremaster Legolas, M/M, Wars Suck, Whose House? Finwe's House!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-02
Updated: 2017-07-02
Packaged: 2018-11-22 13:46:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,655
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11381421
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aussie_Lass/pseuds/Aussie_Lass
Summary: The King of Lindon and the Prince of Mirkwood meet, fall in love, and... get separated for over 3,000 years. What happens when fate brings them back together again?





	Delayed Reaction

**Author's Note:**

> Request: Gil-galad/Legolas or your favorite First Age elf/Legolas(surprise me); I want a love story that is full of mishaps and adversities to the extent that it seems hopeless for them to be able to find/be with each other again, and it feels almost like a surreal miracle when they finally do. If you happen to choose Ereinion, please make him son of Fingon instead of Orodreth, because I prefer it that way. Happy ending is a must. It'd be awesome if you can include more First/Second Age elves in the story. Valinor fic. Do not include: Glorfindel/Erestor, feminine Erestor, full-blown rape, too many side pairings that don't involve any of the elves in the main pairing, crack fic.
> 
> Beta read by Richard's Chew Toy. Big thanks for RCT for finding me a title!  
> Written for Nimvala

“You seem a little apprehensive, laddie.”

Legolas still stood on the shore. The meager gear he had packed was already situated on the boat that would take them, he hoped, from the Grey Havens to Valinor. “Aye,” he answered softly, so softly in fact that had Gimli not been used to such things he would not have concentrated upon hearing him.

“We can wait a few days more,” offered Gimli. He started to stand up.

With a shake of his head, Legolas walked swiftly back to the boat. “No. It is time.”

****

The current aided their journey, and the weather was pleasant as they traveled. This left little for Legolas to do except to mind that the ropes of the sails did not tangle up. Conversation was scant at the outset, with each of them content with their own thoughts. Finally, as the third morning dawned and Gimli awoke, he stretched and yawned and said, “I cannot wait to see the Lady of Light once again.”

Legolas did not answer.

“Surely, you must have family you are hoping to see, laddie.”

Legolas yet remained silent.

Gimli opened the sack containing their food and brought out lembas, cheese, and water for them both. “Alright, if this is something you want to keep to yourself, I will leave you be.”

Legolas accepted the food passed to him. “It is not so much that, my friend. I have been dwelling on the past and contemplating the future. There is no way for me to answer your question, for I do not know the answer yet. My parents and brothers have chosen to remain in Middle-earth, at least a little longer. I may see my grandfather, if he has chosen rebirth, but I could not even guess his decision.”

“You have friends in the West, Legolas. Surely you long to see them again.”

“I do...” Legolas had barely nibbled on the food he had been rationed, while Gimli was nearly done. “Do you want the rest of mine?” he offered.

Gimli shook his head. “Eat. You refuse to sleep. You must keep your strength up somehow.”

*****

“Welcome to Valinor, Gimli, son of Glóin.” Galadriel held out her hand to assist Gimli from the boat. “We have been expecting you.”

On the beach there was a swarm of Elves, all of them calm and looking very expectant. “I did not realize I would cause such a stir,” he apologized as he stepped on shore.

The tintinnabulous sound of her laughter made both Gimli and Legolas smile. “Your arrival is a happy affair, Gimli. There are many who wish to meet you, and thank you for your participation in the fall of Sauron. First, there is someone here who has been greatly anticipating your coming to these shores.” She stepped aside, and instead of Gandalf or one of the Hobbits, which Gimli had expected, there stood an Elf he was not familiar with. “This is my brother Finrod, though he prefers the name Felagund.”

“Felakgundu to any of the children of Aulë,” he corrected, and he bowed low and said in greeting, “Uzbad Gimli.”

“You speak Khuzdûl,” answered the Dwarf in awe.

Felagund smiled. “Only a little. When my sister told me of your coming, I had hoped you might fill in the gaps in my education.”

“Most certainly,” agreed Gimli as he set off with Felagund to greet the other onlookers. “Anyone who prefers such a fine name to an Elven one should know where it came from.”

Still on the edge of the shore, Legolas gave Galadriel a little grin. “And I was worried he would not fit in.”

“Is that all you were worried about?” she wondered as a pair of Elves came forward to pull the boat completely from the water.

“Should I be worried?” he wondered, searching her eyes for an answer.

“Someone is waiting for you in the House of Fingolfin,” she told him. Legolas’ heart beat faster. “You may wish to go to the cottage at the end of Fúmella Tëa first.”

Legolas pulled his pack from the boat. “Who lives there?”

“You will see.” Galadriel followed after Gimli and her brother, but not before giving Legolas another look over her shoulder. “The end of Fúmella Tëa, to the cottage with the garden of mimosa.”

“Mimosa... that was my grandmother’s favorite...” Legolas hoisted the pack on his shoulder, and after obtaining directions from one of Gimli’s many admirers on shore, headed down the main road in search of Fúmella Tëa.

The walk did not seem very long from the shore into the city, mostly due to the fact that there was something fascinating to look at every time Legolas turned his head. Instead of the caution that Legolas tended to feel when he was in an unfamiliar place, there was a very calming mood from everyone he met along the way that put the prince at ease. The roads were easily marked and it was not difficult for him to find Fúmella Tëa, with its rows of poppies lining the lane. He turned left as he had been instructed, and could see the cottage some four blocks away.

There was movement on the stairs of someone sweeping the porch, and he grinned as he recognized an Elf he had not seen in millennia. His fast paced walk turned into a jog, and when his grandmother looked up from her task, she dropped her broom and welcomed him into her arms, giving him a comforting hug as she called for his grandfather to look and see who was there.

Oropher was as ecstatic as his wife at having their youngest grandchild in Valinor, offering his grandson a bear hug as soon as he emerged from the house. Although dressed in common clothes instead of jewels and robes, there was nothing common about him. Oropher had the same regal air as Legolas, and despite the fact neither wore a crown or held a scepter, as they sat upon the porch drinking tea that afternoon, they may well have still have been in the Great Hall of the Mirkwood mountains.

“When I was reborn and recalled my memories, I was at first angered to find out that I was not permitted to travel back to Middle-earth. I would see the ships coming here and wonder, why could I not take one back? Then I decided to accept the fact I would not be able to. That was the day that things became so much better, so much brighter. Since then, I have yet to spend a day of boredom. There are so many things to see and do here.” Oropher sipped his tea as they watched the sky slowly darken as they swirls of pink and orange on the horizon faded to shades of grey. “You probably have a million things you want to see and do first.”

“Actually, now that I am here and have seen that you and grandmother are well, there is but one place on my mind.”

Oropher set aside his empty cup. “You hesitate to say what that might be.”

Legolas tapped his finger against the arm of his chair. “How far from here is the House of Fingolfin?”

“Come with me.” Oropher stood up, retrieving his cup before they went inside. As they passed the kitchen, there was a call to them that supper was nearly ready. They made their way up a flight of stairs and out a door that led to a balcony overlooking a large garden where the fragrance of mimosa wafted to where they stood. In the distance, numerous towers and castles rose up from the woodlands that spread out before them. Taniquetil and the Pelóri loomed above all of these, casting an odd shadow of light over the land. “The house to the north that is decorated with gold and sapphires, that is Fingolfin’s house, where he and his heirs dwell. I take it you have plans to see someone there?”

“You disapprove,” replied Legolas swiftly, but Oropher shook his head.

“I am not your father, nor do I think the objections he had are valid here.” Oropher patted Legolas’ shoulder. “You deserve a chance for peace after all you have been through, and if your heart leads you to him, and his to you, so be it. The walk is little more than an hour. If you leave after supper, you will surely reach the house before it is too late for guests to be received. Or, if you prefer, I am sure your grandmother could ready the guest room for you, and you could leave first thing in the morning.”

“As glad as I am to see you both, I hope not to have need of the guest room.”

Oropher smiled. “Yes, I supposed that would be your answer.”

*****

Immediately following the meal, Legolas bid farewell to his grandparents, with a promise to return the next day for supper as well. His first steps out of the cottage and down the path that would lead him to a place known as Finwë’s Valley were bold and filled with excitement, but his giddiness turned to apprehension the closer he got to the tall castles. He began to recall his past, their past, and the things his father and others had said to him...

When they first met, it was in Greenwood. The Noldorin King made a point of visiting other realms himself, an act that did not seem to promote the sort of friendly relations between Elven kingdoms that King Gil-galad had perhaps hoped for. Instead, Legolas’ father grumbled in the weeks leading up to the visit that it was because of the egotism of the Noldo that made him come himself. “He does not believe in his own counselors and emissaries,” Legolas remembered his father saying. “No trust in them at all. How can he trust what we are doing? He is coming to see for himself our weaknesses, so that he can overthrow us!”

Legolas could not recall his grandfather’s exact response, but he was less harsh, yet still cautious. When the king did arrive, it was an extravagant affair. There were feasts and councils and even a parade. At the time, Legolas was not quite at his majority, so he still spent most of his time with his tutors or in weapon practice with his younger sister. On the few occasions that he had been in the presence of the Lindon king, Legolas had been in awe. Compared to the other kings Legolas knew, his grandfather included, none were so youthful and dynamic as King Gil-galad.

Then there came the banquet before the departure of the party from Lindon. In the arrangements of seating, Legolas ended up just across the table and down one seat from Gil-galad. Most of the conversations happening were of things which Legolas had little interest in – politics were never his forte. When the discussion turned to poetry and music, the youngling perked up his ears, for there was much more he knew on this topic, and it was his mother who gently prompted him to recite for them the Lay of Lúthien, and after the applause from the area he was in, a proposition was made. “I have but one lore master in Lindon and would be greatly honored by another,” said the king.

It took Legolas a moment to realize he was the one being addressed. “I am sorry, your majesty, but I am no lore master. I know only two or three more such poems by heart; the other poems I have memorized are not the sort to be recited in pleasant company.” Legolas still remembered now the heat that came to his cheeks at the laughter that came after his comment.

“Please, call me Ereinion,” offered the king. Legolas recalled the wary look from his father out of the corner of his sharp eyes. “Your voice is well-suited for the telling of tales. You would do well as the apprentice of Master Elrond.”

“My son is no bard,” spoke Thranduil curtly. “He has duties here, at home, where he belongs.”

Gil-galad gave a singular nod of his head. “I meant no offense. Minstrels, in my realm, are highly regarded and sought after. I apologize for any misinterpretation.”

No more was said as the conversation turned once again to politics, but each time Legolas looked up from his plate it seemed to him that the Noldo was casually watching him. Shortly thereafter, Legolas excused himself and walked the forest in solitude for hours after. There had been a burst of excitement at the prospect of travel and a chance to see Lindon and perhaps have a career doing something he loved rather than the military career his father spoke of often. Now, he was confused, oddly upset at his father, and even more bizarre to him, feeling truly lonely for the first time in his life.

Legolas’ hearing was exceptional, even when he was in his youth. It was still developing, and the slightest rustle of leaves put him on guard. When he crouched and saw the blue of the king’s cloak through the branches, he relaxed and bowed when Gil-galad came in sight. “Your majesty.”

“Ereinion,” corrected the king again. “Else, I shall have to start calling you ‘your highness’ instead of Legolas, and I much prefer to call you Legolas.”

“I much prefer that as well.” Legolas felt his cheeks burn again, and hardly knew why, but suspected it had something to do with the odd way his stomach fluttered the closer the king got to him. Only later did he learn it was infatuation and lust that were affecting him. “I am sorry that my father will not allow me to accept your offer, Ereinion.”

At the sound of his name, the king smiled and came closer. “The offer remains open, Legolas. When do you reach your majority?”

“In... in two years.” Legolas felt he should step back, and did, now that they were so close that a wisp of wind blew errant strands of the king’s hair across his cheek.

Gil-galad closed the space between them again, and put his gloved hand upon the younger elf’s shoulder. “If you are inclined, I invite you to visit Lindon, at any time in the future, whether to study with Master Elrond or just so that I can see you again.”

“You... want to see me?” Legolas still remembered how confused the comment made him. “You hardly know me.”

“I know. That is why I must see you again.” The hand on Legolas’ shoulder moved to caress his cheek and sent a shiver down his spine as the king swooped in and brushed his lips gently against Legolas’. “Come to Lindon, Legolas. I will be waiting for you.”

*****

Legolas stood before the large doors of Fingolfin’s house. Much had changed since those days long ago in the homelands he once knew. There was no doubt he was older, and he hoped wiser, than he had been. His mind kept wandering even after he reached the house, which left him leaning against an oak tree, staring at the entrance. It seemed quiet, and deciding he would not disturb anyone and would come back the next day, for it was the easiest way for him to withdraw without feeling too much shame, he turned on his heel and took a step down the path he had come.

“All this way, and you are going to stop now.”

Apparently, the entire household was not abed. Legolas looked up to see a high balcony some four stories from the ground. A slender elf looked down at him, his long dark braids pulled back and yet still swung forward over his shoulders past his waist. “If you knock on the door, the butler will show you in.”

“I must ask pardon; it is late and—“

“My son is still awake, and it would wound him severely if he knew you were here and did not come up to see him.”

“I... how…?” Legolas had only ever heard stories of King Fingon, and to see the legend looking down at him with amusement was a greater shock than he had expected.

The dark-haired elf tapped his forehead in amusement. “Your grandfather contacted me. We tend to favor a faster form of communication than the messengers you are surely used to relying upon. Do come in. I will let Ereinion know you are here.” Fingon disappeared from the railing, leaving Legolas the options of fleeing or facing his fate.

There was no reason to prolong things now, so Legolas walked up the steep stone stairs. The door opened before he could knock. “Good evening, I—“

The butler bowed. “Master Ereinion is taking his bath. Would you prefer to wait in the conservatory or the library?”

“Either would be fine.” Legolas followed the butler down the long hallway, where he was led into a room full of music and merriment. A good number of Elves, none of whom he knew, were seated on benches with their Elflings on the floor upon cushions or on the knee of a rather old elf seated in one corner of the room. One lady was playing a flute as another accompanied on violin. Legolas sat down on the empty bench closest to the door.

From snippets of conversation, he began to figure out who was who. Elenwë was the flautist, and it was Anarië playing violin. Finwë was the one the children were congregating around, and Fingolfin was sitting closest to him of the others in the room. As the song finished, Legolas began to applaud, and stopped abruptly when he noticed no one else did the same.

Everyone turned to look at him, and Finwë spoke and said, “Are you here to see someone?”

“I... I am a friend of Gil—of Ereinion,” he stuttered. “I believe he knows I am here.”

“Ah.” Finwë picked up an Elfling who was tugging on his sleeve after he set another on the ground again. “Anarië, you should play the piece you were practicing last night.” Anarië gave a nod, and the music began again.

The conversation slowly picked up once more, but it was more guarded now. Legolas felt he was the cause and left the room silently. Once in the hallway again, he looked around for the butler. There was no one in sight, so he ventured across the foyer to the only other open door. It was brightly lit and from the little he could see, lined with books. He entered and found three Elves in the spacious library. Two were sitting holding a quiet discussion while a third was reading a book, reclined on a window seat.

Before Legolas could step out again, he was greeted by one of the closer Elves. “Greetings. There is no need to scurry out; none of us bite.”

“Speak for yourself, Saeros,” murmured the elf at the window as he turned the page of his book.

“Pay no attention to him,” said the other elf as he lifted his legs down from the third chair that was available. “My brother enjoys being difficult. May I offer you some wine?”

“Thank you, but I do not wish to be a bother,” said Legolas as he sat down.

A goblet of wine was poured and handed to him. “It is no bother at all. I do not think I have seen you here before. I am Arakáno.”

“I am Legolas; a friend of Ereinion. I only just arrived today.”

“Just today?” Saeros’ ears perked up in interest. “From Middle-earth, then?” Legolas nodded. “You must tell me how things are. It is so rare to have anyone coming over anymore, and I dearly miss news of my home.”

“Your home, and mine, are long gone, Saeros,” announced the elf at the window.

Saeros rolled his eyes. “It was my home long before it was yours, Turgon. As it has been pointed out before, this is where you were born.”

“Minor detail. My heart still belongs to Gondolin.”

“Honestly, pay no attention to him,” said Arakáno, attempting to laugh off his older brother’s foul mood. “I am as interested as Saeros to hear the tales you have to tell, and two votes overrule Turgon’s one.”

Legolas indulged Arakáno and Saeros with stories of his own home, and then of his travels with Gimli. It was not long before Turgon had set his book down and was listening as well. His captive audience kept him talking, and he barely recalled what he had come there for to begin with after the third glass of wine. Only when a soft knock came on the doorway did Legolas turn around mid-sentence and lose his concentration.

“Sorry; no one told me there was someone waiting for me. I guess the butler thought my father was going to, and my father thought the butler was going to, and it was only after I sat through four of my grandfather’s readings that he finally asked if I had seen the lost-looking Elf who was waiting for me.” Ereinion stepped into the library and offered greetings to Saeros and to his uncles. He was dressed in loose pants and a tunic meant for lounging, feet bare. His hair was braided back, still damp, with escaped tendrils clinging to his neck. Despite looking rather plain, the appearance of the Noldo had Legolas captivated. “Would you care to walk with me in the gardens for a while, Legolas?”

“As tempting as that sounds, I have done quite enough walking for one day.” He quickly recounted the past hours, his heart racing as he watched Ereinion approach and pour a meager amount of wine for himself. “Is there somewhere we could speak in private?”

Ereinion nodded, everyone said their farewells, and after Legolas promised to offer more stories the next evening to Saeros and Arakáno, he followed Ereinion out of the room and up a flight of stairs. They rounded a corner, still saying nothing to one another, inches apart with their strides matched.

Without warning, Legolas was suddenly pulled to the side of the hall into an alcove. Ereinion pinned him against the wall, hands threaded in blond hair, lips kissing hungrily, and tongue anxiously sliding into Legolas’ mouth before thoughts could come coherent. Legolas settled one hand on Ereinion’s shoulder and the other he snaked around his waist. They stood there, reacquainting themselves with one another, until voices were heard at the landing below. Ereinion grabbed hold of Legolas’ wrist and tugged him toward the flight of stairs leading up. “My room is on the fourth floor. Follow me.”

When they reached the fourth floor, Ereinion turned down a hallway, and then another. Legolas was fairly certain he was going to need directions on how to get out of the house again later. They entered a dim room, and Ereinion remedied the situation at once by lighting a number of candles. Moonlight came in through the double doors that lead out onto one of the many balconies of the house.

“We can sit on the porch, if you like,” offered Ereinion as he unhooked the doors and pushed them open. Legolas nodded and walked outside again, marveling at the view. From this height, few things rose above them as they had at his grandfather’s house. “This is marvelous,” he remarked as he walked to the railing and looked down. The glimmer of the rail caught his eye, and he saw that the gold was embedded with sapphires and diamonds. “Everything is so much more than I ever imagined it would be. The stars are brighter and the air is fresher and... and you.” Legolas looked over his shoulder to see Ereinion still standing at the door. “I have missed you.”

Ereinion left the door to slowly join Legolas. “I was hoping you would come. At first, I just prayed you would not end up in Mandos as I did, and then later my wish became much more selfish. It has been bitter without you, and I do not think I could live if I knew you would not be here with me. That was why I had to hold on to the hope, and now, here you are.”

Legolas nodded and then he laughed uneasily. “I guess I never expected it would be this easy.”

“What do you mean?” Ereinion joined him at the railing. His hands reached out to touch Legolas, to caress his arms and rub his shoulders.

“After everything we faced and everything everyone else said and did, and everything that kept us apart, it seems like something else should happen that keeps us from each other.”

“There is no one who will keep us apart, if that is what we desire. There is peace here, and freedom.” Ereinion pulled Legolas into a fierce embrace, more clinging to him than anything else. “You might think me strong, Legolas, but I am weak when it comes to you. If I am wrong about this, wrong about what you want, tell me now.”

“I... I want you,” answered Legolas. His arms were wrapped tightly around Ereinion, and he nuzzled his nose against the crook of Ereinion’s neck, fast losing his resolve to simply talk things out first. “It just seems surreal. I need a moment to take it all in. I was worried you had found someone else—“

“There is no one else. There is only ever one, and you were the only one.”

“I know. I mean, I feel the same.” Legolas sighed. “I still need a little time to absorb the fact you are not just a dream.”

Ereinion stood back, and took Legolas’ hand. “I am rushing things.”

“No... well, just a little. Give me a few minutes.”

“Should I pinch you?”

With a frown, Legolas asked, “Why would you do that?”

“My mother used to tell me to do that if I thought I was dreaming,” replied Ereinion with a slight shrug.

Legolas chuckled. “My brothers and I used to do that to each other to be annoying.”

Ereinion looked wistful. “It must have been wonderful to grow up with siblings.”

“It depended on the day. I am looking forward to seeing both of my sisters again; my grandfather is going to make arrangements to have all of us meet at his house. They both sailed with their husbands years ago. My grandparents are going to invite them to lunch, and then have me walk in and surprise them. I have two nieces and a nephew I have never met,” he added.

“That should be fun.”

“I am looking forward to it.” Legolas tried to think of something else to say to keep the conversation going, but failed. “So... I think I saw your father earlier.”

Ereinion looked amazed. “Oh? Was he downstairs?”

“No, he addressed me from his balcony.”

“That figures. He rarely makes appearances in the communal areas.” Ereinion looked a little apprehensive before he asked, “Was it just him?”

“I think so,” answered Legolas.

“I should take you over to introduce you properly. If you do not mind, that is.”

“Is he going to be alright with me?” worried Legolas. “Remember, my father was not exactly pleased with the thought of us having a relationship.”

“I think my father is going to accept it much more readily than yours, mostly due to the fact he already knows, and partly because... well, you will see. Come with me.”

He led Legolas back inside and through the bedroom. They traveled down a hallway to the opposite end of the house, and into another room. Ereinion did not bother knocking before they entered, but he did knock briefly on the wood panel of the doorway leading out to a balcony identical to the one they had just been on. As someone softly beckoned them out, Legolas regained his bearings and realized that this was the balcony that Fingon had addressed him from earlier. Fingon was still there, lounging with his back against the chest of a very tall and handsome elf with crimson colored hair. They were nestled against a heap of pillows and looked to have been relaxing in the starlight until Ereinion and Legolas showed up.

“Father, I wanted to introduce you to Legolas. Legolas, this is my father, Fingon, and Maedhros, his companion.”

“My heating pad,” Fingon joked, patting Maedhros on the arm.

“Is that my function these days?” asked Maedhros, his Quenya accent thick despite speaking in Sindarin in order for Legolas to understand. To Legolas, he added, “A pleasure to meet you, Legolas. Ereinion has spoken highly and fondly of you.”

“Thank you. The honor of meeting you both is entirely mine.” Legolas added a bit of a bow, though he was certain from the relaxed nature of the pair it was highly unnecessary.

Fingon sat up slightly and picked up a tray of freshly cut fruit, offering some to his son and to Legolas. He set it back when they both declined. “Where in Valinor are you staying, Legolas?”

“I was hoping it would be alright for him to stay here tonight,” spoke Ereinion. His voice was nervous, and Fingon chuckled.

“What do you think I am going to do, say no?” Fingon looked at Legolas and said, “You are welcome here, for as long as you like.”

“Thank you. I appreciate your hospitality.”

Fingon settled back against Maedhros. “Actually, since it is not even my house, it would be my father’s hospitality. However, he hardly knows one day to the next who is here, and I am certain he will not mind my extending his generosity to Ereinion’s friends.”

“Or his own,” added Maedhros. “We are fairly certain he has yet to determine that I am living here.”

Ereinion smiled. “I think he has some inclination of that fact. On the other hand, at least twice a week he asks Saeros who he is and why he is here.” Ereinion turned to Legolas and said, “Saeros stopped in one day to speak with Uncle Turgon, and after seeing the state of the library, decided we needed someone to take care of it. Consequently, he moved himself into one of the guest rooms and has lived here ever since.”

“So all I have to do is find something that needs doing, claim a room, and establish residency. Excellent,” Legolas said with a grin. “Do you still have need of a lore master?”

“And how!” exclaimed Fingon, sitting up again. “All we hear are the same stories, told over and over by the same people. Consider yourself hired!”

“Now we just need to find him a room,” said Maedhros as he pulled Fingon back down. This time, he wound his arms around the slighter elf and laced his fingers together to keep him cuddled close.

“I can take care of that,” said Ereinion. “I think we shall take our leave; I did not mean to disturb you so long. Good night.”

Fingon waved his hand toward the tray of fruit. “You should take this with you. We hardly touched it, and if Legolas just arrived, there is no doubt he is more in need of it.”

“Are you sure?” Ereinion bent down and picked the platter up as his father nodded. “Thank you. Good night, then.”

The good nights chorused around, and Ereinion and Legolas headed back to Ereinion’s room. “Your father seems very nice.”

“He is... more my friend than my father. I hardly remember him growing up,” admitted Ereinion. “I was more or less raised by Círdan after my father sent me away. I have no ill will over his doing that, mind you, he was protecting me. It just meant when we were reunited here that it was not like most father and son reunions. We became very good friends, though.”

“Maedhros seems nice, too. Elrond would talk about him now and then, and it was favorable, but always with a degree of sadness.”

“When my father died, it almost killed Maedhros. It was Maedhros who insisted that my father marry and have an heir, which he obviously did. They were apart during those years. Then, when they were reunited, he had to watch him die.” They were back on the balcony now, and Ereinion had to look away. “After I was reborn, and Maedhros told me about that, I wondered every day how you were. I mean… I was wondering prior to that, but knowing what you went through that day...”

Legolas placed his hand on Ereinion’s arm. “If it makes you feel any better, no one actually saw it. We watched you rush toward Sauron, and then came the light. It was so bright that we all looked away, and when we turned back, you were just... gone.”

Ereinion looked back to Legolas. “I never meant to leave you like that.”

“I know.” Legolas squeezed Ereinion’s arm. “I know.”

“Is it too much of a rush for you if I were to ask you to stay the night?” Ereinion’s gaze was hopeful.

With a sly grin, Legolas said, “Well, considering my other options are sleeping in the forest or walking all the way back to my grandfather’s house, you hardly need to ask.”

“I meant—“

“I know what you meant.”

Ereinion took a deep breath. “Part of me wants to do things properly. We have probably spent longer together tonight than we ever have at any time in the past. It seems crazy to even suggest sleeping together. On the other hand, I look at my father and Maedhros and what they went through, flirting and courting and then spending nearly an eternity apart.”

“If I thought it was a rush, I would have said no. I think you and I know each other better than you are giving credit for.” Legolas brushed his lips against Ereinion’s, in the same manner Ereinion had done to him in the forest so many years ago. “I think we have both waited long enough.”

They quickly ended up back inside. Soon after that, a trail of clothing led from the doors of the balcony to the bed, where Legolas was lazily tracing the patterns of the quilt. Just as they were about to fall into each other’s arms on the bed, Ereinion froze up, grabbed a robe, and excused himself. Not knowing what else to do, Legolas made himself comfortable on the bed and waited for the return of his soon-to-be lover.

The mention earlier of their last encounter in Middle-earth brought thoughts of this back into Legolas’ mind. As he munched on some grapes from the tray Fingon had offered them, he thought back to a memory he had long kept sheltered in his mind...

Legolas had never made it to Lindon, and the invitation extended to him had long gone unanswered. Letters would reach him from time to time, and always there was a promise of a tour when he did make it to the Noldorin Kingdom. Legolas would reply with his thanks and promises of soon, but soon turned into someday, which turned into after the war. The war came, and Legolas was with the contingent that came from Greenwood to aid in the fight against Sauron.

The first gathering of the Elf Lords on the battlefield to discuss strategy was only the second time that Legolas had actually seen Gil-galad. Now grown to full stature and strength, his confidence was much greater than it had been when he first had encountered the Noldorin King. To Legolas’ great pleasure, the Noldo was more resplendent than he had remembered, despite the grave charge before them.

Time and absence had done little to quell the obvious lust that Gil-galad had for Legolas; the feeling was now entirely mutual. In war, however, few moments of privacy were available, and they were stolen every time they could manage.

One such time, they were not so alone as they had thought, and seconds after they disappeared into a tent for a few kisses and a moment of peace, they were interrupted by Elrond and Thranduil. The former seemed slightly amused to see the princeling on the lap of the king he was heralding, but Thranduil was furious. Legolas remembered his father yanking him away and declaring that he was not some whore for the king to toy with. Ereinion did not have a chance to offer a rebuttal as Legolas was led away.

That night, Thranduil forbade Legolas to go near the Noldorin side of the camp, and enforced what would have been an idle command by reassigning the company of archers that Legolas was with to the furthest part of the battle. Days later, when one of his brothers came to see the progress of the war on that front, he was given two messages. One was from his father, and was more or less a rant on how Legolas should not taint himself by becoming involved with a Noldo. The other was from Gil-galad, a simple apology and three little words that Legolas was uncertain had been thoroughly considered at the time, but meant so much more than they likely had been intended. Those three words had kept life worth living for him after the tragic death of the king he so loved.

*****

“Did you doze off on me?” Ereinion smiled as Legolas blinked and focused on his face. The Noldo was hovering over him. “Were you sleeping?”

“I think I was daydreaming,”

“About me?”

“Mostly.” Legolas stretched his arms above his head as Ereinion leaned over and set something aside on the table beside the bed. “I was recalling the message you wrote to me, when we were fighting in Mordor.”

“Oh.” Ereinion bit his lip. “I remember that.”

“Is something wrong?”

“No.” Ereinion paused. “I guess I forgot that I sent that.”

“Oh.” Legolas frowned. “You did not mean to, you mean.”

“What I mean is... well, I did want to, but I wanted to say it to you, and... Elrond made me write it instead.” Ereinion shrugged. “I told him I had to apologize for upsetting your father, and I wanted you to know how much I loved you, and he told me if I wanted you to know any of it, I had to send you a message. I thought at the time it was because he was hinting that I should not wait the few days it would take for your company to make it back, when what he really knew was something entirely different.”

“It meant a lot to me, to know how you felt. I think that was what kept me thinking that one day I would see you again, and things would be as they should be.”

“They will be. They are going to be,” promised Ereinion as he lay down beside Legolas, brushing the back of his hand against his lover’s cheek. “Starting now.”

Ereinion bent his head down and captured Legolas’ lips – an easy task, for Legolas lifted his head up at the same time, eager to taste Ereinion’s kisses once again. Warmth and anticipation flowed through Legolas’ body. His hands moved more on instinct and need and less from any actual control from him, touching and grabbing, groping, digging into flesh as the favor was returned.

They were both panting in pleasure, shuddering with need. Ereinion shifted his weight so that he was propped on one arm and reached downward with his other hand. His fingers slid up and down Legolas’ foreskin, down and up, until the hardening of Legolas’ shaft caused it to stretch, and contact made the Sinda cry out. Fluid leaked from the head, and Ereinion smeared it over his fingers as he whispered something into Legolas’ ear.

Legolas nodded, and Ereinion moved his hand down further. As he kissed and nuzzled Legolas’ neck and throat, Ereinion rubbed against the puckered opening, using Legolas’ own essence to ease his way in. Legolas kneaded the sheets with fingers and toes, and drew up his legs, spreading them wider.

The bobbing of Legolas’ cock caught Ereinion’s eye, and after a nip at the tip of Legolas’ ear, Ereinion crawled down and repositioned himself with his hands on Legolas’ thighs. He bowed his head and ran his tongue up the length of Legolas’ erection, bringing forth a low moan. Ereinion sucked on the head, using one hand to massage the base of the shaft. He took a moment to suck on two of his fingers before using them to slick and loosen the tight passage.

“Stop, stop,” begged Legolas amid groans.

Ereinion pulled his fingers out slowly and crawled back up so that he was peering down over Legolas again. “Sorry. Did I hurt you?”

“No, no, it was good.” Legolas panted and gasped for air. “Too good. Wanted you inside before I let go.”

“That we can fix.” Ereinion reached for the item on the table, and admitted as he worked the cork from the bottle, “I disappeared earlier because I had no lubricant. I had to go down the hall and ask to borrow some from my father. Maedhros stopped laughing long enough to find this for me.”

“Your father knows what we are doing?” asked Legolas, horror evident on his face.

Ereinion shrugged. “What do you think he and Maedhros are doing right now?”

Legolas pulled a face. “How can you even say that? The last thing I want to think about is my parents...” Legolas shuddered. “I cannot even say it; that is how bad the thought is.”

Still, Ereinion seemed unphased. “I only knew my father the first eleven years of my life. Besides, did you take a good look at them? You cannot tell me you would not watch them.”

“We are not having this discussion.” Legolas took the oil from Ereinion and poured some into his hand. “Later, maybe, not now.” He stretched his hand down and curled his fingers around Ereinion’s length. “More important things to do right now.”

“Mmm... yes,” agreed Ereinion, thrusting his hips gently as Legolas stroked faster. Ereinion took back the oil and rubbed some between his palms before setting the bottle on the table again. He began his manipulations again, and Legolas let his hand fall back down to the mattress with a drawn out groan.

Ereinion coaxed Legolas onto his stomach, and then onto his hands and knees. They were both hard, sweating, and impatiently needful as Ereinion aligned the tip of his erection with Legolas’ prepared entrance. Legolas looked over his shoulder and nodded. “Do it,” he said in a hushed voice, and Ereinion pressed forward. With a grunt, Legolas braced himself and pushed back. Life seemed to stop as the sudden rush of their joining impacted them both.

“Move... please,” insisted Legolas after they had caught their breath again. Ereinion placed one hand on Legolas’ hip, and the other he wrapped around his lover’s erect member. Slow at first, Ereinion thrust harder and faster with encouragement from Legolas. It was Legolas who came first, his eyes closed and head thrown back as the silvery strands shot across the quilt.

Ereinion gripped tighter with both hands on Legolas’ waist. As the desire that had built inside him threatened to burst forth, Ereinion repeated the words he had written long ago. In a low, contented groan, the sentiment was returned by Legolas as Ereinion found release.

After easing himself out, Ereinion pulled back the quilt. He used it to clean both of them off before discarding it on the floor. Legolas was sleepily lounging on the bed when Ereinion returned with another blanket from the closet. “I think we might have to sleep in tomorrow.”

“I was actually hoping we might be able to sleep out,” admitted Legolas. “What your father and Maedhros were doing looked very cozy. Besides, I must confess, I would rather sleep in a tree than in a bed.”

“I always thought that was a myth,” mused Ereinion as he gathered up as many pillows as he could carry and took them out to the balcony. He came back and went to the closet, where he pulled out a stack of blankets. “I am going one better than them,” he announced as he went back outside.

Curious, Legolas followed and chuckled as he watched Ereinion drape the blankets over the railings to make a low, makeshift wall that would allow them, and their nudity, to remain unseen on the balcony. “Brilliant.”

“Thank you. Would you mind bringing out the fruit while I steal some pillows from the guest rooms?”

Legolas brought the tray onto the balcony and then began to fluff up the pillows that were already there. Another half dozen were dumped beside these when Ereinion returned. “I promised my grandparents that I would have supper with them tomorrow night,” Legolas informed his lover. “That means you have to come with me.”

“Alright,” agreed Ereinion as he lowered himself down beside Legolas. “But I always have dinner with my father and Maedhros, so we have to bring them along, too.”

“I also promised to tell stories to Saeros and your uncles.” Legolas frowned. “I wonder how many people can fit in their dining room.”

“Maybe we should just invite them here. We have a dining hall, three cooks, and my grandfather will never notice,” Ereinion assured Legolas.

Legolas snuggled up against Ereinion after he helped himself to a handful of berries. “That would also work.” He yawned again, and tilted his head to take in the full beauty of the night sky. “A Elbereth,” he whispered in awe. “I never quite understood the true beauty of her creation until this evening.”

“You are going to love it here,” declared Ereinion.

“I already do,” Legolas assured him. “You and I are here, together... what more do I need?”

-End-

**Author's Note:**

> Translations
> 
> Khuzdul – Dwarven language
> 
> Felagund – Sindarized version of Felakgundu
> 
> Felakgundu – Name given to Finrod by the Dwarves
> 
> Uzbad Gimli – Lord Gimli
> 
> Fúmella Tëa – Poppy Road


End file.
